The Very Best Is Yet To Be

They were friends with the
Jewish population long
before the Germans arrived.
Casper ten Boom and his
daughters Corrie and Betsie
worked, lived and worshiped
alongside them in the heart
of Haarlem, Amsterdam.
They participated in their
Sabbath rituals and held
regular Old Testament Bible
studies.

Neutral throughout
World War I, the Dutch
assumed they would be
spared an invasion. However,
on May 10, 1940, the Nazis
entered the Netherlands;
eight days later the Germans
occupied the nation.

They opened their home
to Jewish refugees and
learned the ways of the
underground movement.
“Watch your ashtrays and
wastebaskets,” they were
warned. “If the raid is at
night, have the refugees take
their bedding and flip the
mattress over. One of the
Gestapo’s favorite tricks is to
feel for a warm spot on the
mattress.”

Eventually, Corrie, Betsie,
their father, and others in
the home were arrested.
Casper ten Boom died 10
days later in the hallway of
a hospital. He was buried,
unmarked, in a potter’s field.

Corrie and Betsie were
imprisoned. After four
months of solitary confinement,
Corrie prayed, “Lord,
I cannot be alone without
human beings.” Just then,
she saw an ant crawl across
the floor. “Thank you, Lord,”
she responded. Day after day, the ant appeared in her cell.
When it perceived danger, it
ran to a little hole in the wall
and disappeared. “The Lord
whispered to me, ‘Corrie,
that little hole in the wall is
the hiding place for the ant.
Don’t forget that I am your
hiding place.’” She recalled,
“That ant came every day as
my little friend.”

Once, Corrie was taken
from her cell to the judge’s
office. Five times, her sister,
Betsie, had already been
summoned to his chambers.
“I’ve never met anyone like
your sister,” he commented.
“She told me about Jesus, but
said it’s better to speak to
Him than about Him.” He
continued, “I have evidence
that you have hidden eight
people.” He produced papers
found in the home containing
the names of friends and
family who helped them protect
the Jews. Most of these
people were in prison now,
meaning certain death if
confirmed. “Can you explain
these papers?” he asked. “No,”
Corrie admitted.

Suddenly, he turned to
the wood stove in the room
and opened the door. He
flung the papers into the fire,
much to Corrie’s surprise. “I
never believed I could be
so happy! The papers were
destroyed.”

“I learned a great lesson
in that moment,” she said,
“better than I ever understood
before. When we
bring our sins to the Lord
Jesus, the Bible says He casts
them into the depths of the
sea. He blots them out like a cloud. At the cross, Jesus finished all that is necessary
to take away our sins.”

They were sentenced
to Ravensbruck camp,
assigned to a building
made for 200 women,
occupied by 700. When
they entered, they saw
barracks with mattresses
made of rags and straw, full
of fleas and lice. “I cannot
thank God for this,” she
complained. “Oh, we must
thank God for everything,”
Betsie replied. As it turned
out, she was right. The
guards refused to come into
the building because of the
infestation. This enabled the
sisters to begin a Bible study.

“These were services
like no others, these times
in Barracks 28. With each
moment the crowd around
us would swell, packing the
nearby platforms, hanging
over the edges, until the
high structures groaned and
swayed.

“At last, Betsie would
open the Bible. Because
only the Hollanders could
understand the Dutch text,
we would translate aloud in
German. And then we would
hear the life-giving words
passed back along the aisles
in French, Polish, Russian,
Czech, and back into Dutch.
They were little previews
of heaven, these evenings
beneath the light bulb.”

When asked how she
could believe in a God who
allowed them to suffer as
they did, Betsie replied,
“You, friend, see what is
around you. We see another world — just as real; our life
with God. Everyday it gets
deeper, stronger. You think
the two can’t exist side by
side, but we know they do.”

She added, “The worst
can happen in your life. The
best remains. The very best is
yet to be.”

Betsie became ill and
began to weaken. One
evening in December, she
said, “You know, Corrie, we’re
going to be free before the
New Year. The Lord showed
me in a dream.” Days later, on
December 16, 1944, Betsie
died at Ravensbruck. The
girls of the barracks pled,
“Read to us, Corrie. Read for
Betsie. Read for all of us.”

Twelve days later, December
28, Corrie was released.

“I promised my sister I
would tell it,” she would
declare in 64 countries over
33 years. To those who struggle,
“There is no pit so deep
that He is not deeper still.”
To those who doubt, “You
see what is around you. We
see another world — just as
real, our life with God. Everyday
it gets deeper, stronger.”
To those who suffer, “The
worst can happen in your
life. The best remains. The
very best is yet to be.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Janet Paschal

Janet Paschal is one of Homecoming’s most beloved artists as well as a prolific writer and profound thinker who finds wonder and faith in the day to day of life.